


Strong

by vodka_and_some_sass



Category: Kong: Skull Island (2017)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fluff and Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-23
Updated: 2019-11-23
Packaged: 2021-02-26 07:48:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,180
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21530083
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vodka_and_some_sass/pseuds/vodka_and_some_sass
Summary: You reschedule a date with Conrad because of an excruciating back ache and he finds you at home.
Relationships: James Conrad/Reader
Comments: 3
Kudos: 44





	Strong

“I am a strong, independent woman,” you mumbled under your breath, blinking back tears as another sharp pain shot up your spine. “I have lived with this for a long time-” Your voice broke as a soft groan escaped your lips, a traitorous tear falling onto the touchpad of your laptop. Clenching your jaw, you reached for your bag, swallowing whimpers as the action made every muscle in your back scream in agony. You rummaged through the bag, finding the little orange bottle that you were looking for, only to find one lone tablet in it. You didn’t bother to hold back the sobs anymore as you popped the tablet into your mouth, swallowing it dry and hoping that by some miraculous intervention, having half your regular dose would help you, even if just a little bit.

An hour after you had taken the medicine, you felt the familiar sensation of the sharp pain dulling to a throb. Grateful for even that tiny bit of relief, you reopened the document you had been working on before the pain had made your muscle seize and spasm. You saw a bunch of messages in your inbox and made a quick decision to leave them for later when one specific one caught your attention.

_“Carry a warm coat tonight. Want to take you for a drive after dinner.” - James Conrad_

Of course you had forgotten. You had a date with your boyfriend. Looking at the empty bottle of prescription painkillers that lay on your table, you knew you wouldn’t be able to even make it through your work, let alone dinner. 

_Maybe he could come over?_

You dismissed that thought as soon as you had it. He would worry if he saw you like this. You didn’t need to burden him with that. You spent enough time wondering what he saw in you anyway. The ex-SAS specialist was nothing short of perfect, with a body that was lean and slender, made of taut muscles that were covered by skin that was a light gold from a tan that you learned was permanent. You had been enthralled by his piercing gray eyes the first time you saw them, when he picked up a copy of _The Timekeeper_ that you had just returned to the library. Then his thin lips turned up into a smile as he thanked you, telling you that it had been the book he had been searching for. Unable to straighten your thoughts that had been scrambled by his utter beauty, his sinfully low voice and his fascinatingly clear British accent, you had mumbled something incoherent and made a hasty exit. The next time you saw him in the library, you had been a little more prepared and had somewhat gracefully accepted his offer to talk about the book over some coffee. That had been two years ago. He knew about your condition, of course. You had to tell him after you had forgotten your painkillers in his car. You had played it down, not wanting to seem weak. Even if he had suspected that you were not being entirely truthful, he hadn’t said anything.

_“Do you mind if we postpone the date? I have a lot of work left and wanted to get it done asap. Raincheck, please?”_

It wasn’t entirely a lie. You would probably be taking more breaks than working which would delay your schedule. He would probably assume that you had had a bout of inspiration and wanted to pen down the idea before it disappeared, something he had seen happen so often, having witnessed how your eyes would grow wide and sparkle as the first seeds of an idea were sown in your mind and you would drop whatever you were doing and holding to quickly put it into your phone so you could access and develop them later. 

Hitting send, you put your phone away and tried to ignore the slowly growing ache and focussed on the story you had promised to send to your editor in a week. The day passed by at a snail’s crawl and you had to stop work multiple times and put your head on your table, letting waves of pain pull you under, giving up trying to fight it and instead choosing to simply ride it out. As the setting sun that cast long shadows went behind the cityscape and the world outside your window lit up with twinkling lights, you lifted your head and saw your reflection in the glass. Your face was tear-streaked, silver lines tracing the path your tears had taken. Your eyes were dull, lifeless and dark bags lined the underneath and your forehead was hot, sweat beading across it, dampening your hair and making it stick uncomfortably to your skin. You let your head thump back onto the desk, wondering how long would you be allowed relief this time before the next round of spasming and contracting started. 

When you heard the first knock, you assumed you had imagined it. There was no one who would turn up so late. You ignored the second knock as well, convinced now that the pain had finally driven you mad. It was only when you heard the unmistakable sound of the lock being jiggled open and then the soft call of the voice you had come to love with every cell of your being that you finally turned your face to the door, still keeping it on the table, letting the now warm wood act as an anchor for your focus.

It took Conrad a moment to find you. You closed your eyes, not wanting to witness the disgust he was bound to feel at your state. You didn’t realise how close he had gotten till his voice came from right in front of you, his breath on your face.

“Darling, what is wrong?” You opened your eyes to see him squatting next to you, his eyes shining with worry as they scanned your face, trying to piece something together. You just shook your head, fresh tears leaking through eyes that you squeezed shut tightly. You wished he would go away, spare you the embarrassment. You flinched as his warm hand pushed away the hair from your sweaty brow.

“It’s your back, isn’t it?” He asked. A harsh sob tore through you and you turned away from him. _Why wouldn’t he leave?_ Almost as if he had heard your thought, he got up. You hated yourself in that moment, torn between begging him to stay, to hold you, share some of his stoic strength and screaming for him to leave you alone in your misery. Your body heaved with sobs, a combination of receding dull throbs of pain and waves of self loathing crashing through your system, leaving you feeling weary. You let your thoughts pull you under, creating a black maelstrom of clouds in your head that you were gladly willing to lose yourself in. 

Apparently the universe didn’t favour your plans, for you felt strong arms go under your shoulders and knees, lifting you. The movement caused little shocks of pain to course through your back all the way up to your neck and you let out a whimper that sounded pathetic even to you.

“I know it hurts. I’m so sorry love. We’ll get you comfortable in a second.” You tried to push yourself out of Conrad’s arms, your attempt nothing short of weak. His only response to it was to hold you even closer, your face getting buried in his chest, the smell of detergent, spice and coffee instantly enveloping you. You felt him sit somewhere, still holding you, his grip firm but gentle. When he lifted his knees and swiveled his body, you realised he had brought you to your bed. Your body moved with his as he leaned against the headboard. You opened your eyes and tilted your face to his. 

“Hey,” his smile was small, tight and didn’t reach his eyes. You ignored him, searching desperately for any hint of disgust, your frustration growing when you couldn’t find it. _Was he blind!?_

“Stop that!” You were startled out of your thoughts by his sharp tone. “Stop trying to find signs of things that are not there, that will never be there. I know you don’t see it right now, but you are nothing less than a warrior, a soldier. And for that, you will always have my respect. If you could look past your self-loathing, you will see a woman who is brave, enduring and so awe inspiringly strong. You will find a heart that is so full of love that it is constantly overflowing, bringing joy into people’s lives, into _my_ life. You will find a mind capable of creating universes.” Calloused fingers lifted your chin. You closed your eyes, still afraid of what you would see. “Look at me.” When you refused, warms hands cupped your face, thumbs rubbing the skin under your eyes gently. 

“Please, look at me.” His voice had dropped, becoming lower, softer and more vulnerable. It was that that made you look at him. Stormy grey eyes looked into yours with an intensity that almost made you forget the ache in your muscles. “You are so…” He seemed to be searching for the words as his eyes roved over your face, “astoundingly brave. You’ve endured so much alone and I don’t know anyone who could have gone through all of this and still been so giving of love, of happiness. But you don’t have to do it alone. You’ll never have to do it alone, ever again. You know why?” You tried to lower your face, overwhelmed by the emotion that was shining through his eyes, but he held your face firmly, bending a little when you, in a moment of stubborness, lowered your eyes. “You don’t have to do it alone, bear it alone, because I love you. I love you so much that I would single handedly take on the world to keep you safe, to protect you. And I would succeed because that is how powerful my love is for you. And I’m a fool because I don’t tell you this enough, but then again, no matter how much I say it, what I do, it still won’t be enough to describe how much I love you. And you are worth so much more than what I can give and I will always strive to keep giving. But I will never let you go. I will be there right by your side for every battle you have to fight, every mountain you have to climb, every hurdle you have to cross, even though I know you are stronger than I am, stronger than anyone I know. And you can’t stop me from doing it because I love you.”

You felt your resolve crack at his confession. You knew that James Conrad was not a man of many words. Usually you were the one who would speak in metaphors and elaborate allegories. But for the first time, you had been rendered speechless. He held your stare, and belatedly, you realised that he was waiting for your response, leaving him feeling exposed. _How could you respond to something like that?_

You searched for words, something as eloquent and as beautiful as his expression of love for you, but the receding pain had left exhaustion in its wake. So you hoped with a desperation like you had never felt before that when you gingerly lifted your arms to wrap them around his neck and used whatever force you could muster up to squeeze his warm frame against yours, he would understand everything you were trying to say. But just to be on the safe side, you weakly whispered, “I love you. Thank you for finding me.” 

He drew you away from him and for a brief moment, you wondered whether he was going to leave, that there was something that you missed. But he held you by your shoulders in a gentle grip, searching your face for something. You managed to glimpse the relief wash over his features as he pulled you back in for a hug moments later. Cradling your head in one hand, holding it against the crook of his neck while his other hand rubbed soft and gentle circles around your back, he let out a sigh. Moving you so that you were resting against his broad chest, he reached out and lifted a heating pad and a wet washcloth, soaking in a bowl that you hadn’t noticed on the bedside table. He fastened the pad around your back before settling you into the circle of his arm, your head against his shoulder as he brought his chin to rest lightly on you. Wiping your sweat soaked brow with the washcloth that was blissfully cool against your skin, he dropped a light kiss on your lips.

“Rest now. I’ve got you. You’re safe.” And with that firm assurance from him, you allowed yourself to slip into a state of comfortable unconsciousness. 


End file.
